Too Late
by Almost Anonymous
Summary: Harry's realization of his deepest feelings comes too late. Warning for character deaths.


**Disclaimer**: Nope, not mine and won't ever be. Really belongs to J. K. Rowling and her publishers.

AN: A sad little fic that has a glimmer of hope in the ending. This also is an old story I wrote a long time ago and only recently decided to post it. I don't usually write much angst because I prefer fluff instead, but sometimes angst can be a great outlet for one's feelings...

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They had been preparing and training for this moment for months. In retrospect Harry realized that he had been preparing himself for this moment ever since he had heard the words of the Prophecy, two years ago. This was the pinnacle in the fight between good and evil, between Voldemort and himself. But no matter how much they had prepared for this moment they could not have been ready for this.

The battle that raged all around them, between the Order and the Death Eaters, was something that was impossible to prepare for. It was an insane maelstrom of spells and violence, joyless laughter and cries of pain, death and torment, everywhere around them. The three of them, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been making their way towards Voldemort for the final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort, a single fight between the two wizards that would ultimately decide the fate of the battle.

Ron had been the first one to fall; not dead, but seriously wounded by a stray curse that had knocked him down, bleeding and unconscious. Harry had activated Ron's emergency Portkey, to take him away to a safe location and a group of healers, and with grim determination Harry and Hermione had continued their fight towards Voldemort together.

Luckily in their training they had considered this possibility and had trained fighting in pairs – Harry and Ron and Harry and Hermione – in the case that either Ron or Hermione would be unable to continue. Harry was critical for the success and if he was incapacitated, there would be no use for Hermione or Ron going against Voldemort by themselves.

So, Harry and Hermione continued their fight-and-run technique to get to Voldemort. Most of the Death Eaters concentrated on fighting the Aurors and Order members that held their positions and they didn't notice Harry and Hermione creeping towards the back lines where Voldemort was observing the battle, and so their task was easier than what it might have been if the Death Eaters had paid them more attention.

The duo got to Voldemort without any serious wounds, just a few scratches and close calls, and were truly relieved to notice that Voldemort had only two Death Eaters with him; Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew. They knew that Pettigrew was a coward and would most probably scamper away in fear from them, and even if he decided to fight, he was an average fighter at his best. But Bellatrix was among the best and most deadly Death Eaters, and Hermione would need every bit of the training they had gone through to be a match against her while Harry was fighting with Voldemort.

Just as they were going to launch their attack, there was a shout of "Avada Kedavra" behind them and, as Harry turned his head, ready to dodge the curse, he saw the green curse hitting Hermione squarely on the back.

As her lifeless form fell on the trampled ground, Harry forgot every bit of their training, every rational thought, and his only object was to get to her. She had barely fallen down when he reached her, knelt down and lifted her in his arms. He felt totally surreal and couldn't believe what his eyes had just witnessed; Hermione could not be dead, she just couldn't. But all the doubt vanished as he gazed into her dead eyes, staring empty at nothingness, and his doubt was replaced with a deeper sadness and pain than he had ever felt – worse than he ever thought possible.

He didn't notice Voldemort closing in on them, nor did he hear his mocking words; the only thing that existed for Harry was the body in his arms and all the memories his head was reliving. The seven years they had known each other flashed through his mind, each and every moment they had shared – in just seconds he relived it all and he was left feeling utterly empty. During the seven years, their very souls had entwined together, and now when she died, his soul was torn in pieces and he knew that it could never be mended. Not in this life. There was nothing to heal him and life was all empty and meaningless for him.

With a start he noticed his wet cheeks and his tear blurred vision as he came back to reality again. He saw Voldemort in front of him, looking triumphant, surrounded by Death Eaters, but he didn't care about it one bit. Only thing that mattered to him was the undeniable fact that she was dead and gone from his life forever.

So, he only clutched her body tighter in his arms, hoping that his soul could follow hers to wherever it had gone. Everything, except for her, had lost it's meaning to him; there was no happiness, no hatred, not even fear left in him and the only thing he felt was the still deepening pain and sadness, and a craving to be with her again.

He didn't hear it when his arch-enemy uttered the two unforgivable words, nor see the flash of green light heading towards him, as he was lost in himself and lost without her. And there was no reaction when the light struck him, he just collapsed on the ground, still holding the dead body of his dearest friend and the one he had loved the most.

But inside, his soul rejoiced, knowing that it would soon be united with its twin, and if his soul had still been connected with his body he would have died with a smile on his face.


End file.
